LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap. Copyright No.. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






fi. Word . . . 



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Moderate Drinkers. 



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L3y Mary .A.. Freeman. 






Price = = = 5 cents. 

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Word to Moderate Drinkers. 



Copyright, 1893, 

By Mary A. Freeman. 

All rights reserved. 



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NOTICE. 

The proceeds of the sale of this trad will 
be used toward a building for the Woman's 
Christian Temperance Union of Eureka 
Springs. Will not W. C. T. U. women 
and friends of temperance help us to sell a 
large number? (Place one in the hand of 
every moderate drinker in the land. 
Friends , please do not lay this aside as of 
no consequence. To us who are struggling 
to maintain the work here it means much. 
Will not many who have been restored to 
health by the life-giving waters of these 
springs , assist us in this work? Orders 
can be sent to 

M^s. J. C. Fraker } 

Eureka Springs, Ark. 



BY MARY A. FREEMAN. 



THIS appeal is made, not to habitual ine- 
briates, but to those who indulge in an 
occasional glass. God created man in 
His own image, created him a perfect man; 
perfect in the symmetry of his natural body, 
also perfect in his moral and spiritual being. 
The purity of his intellect prior to the advent 
of sin was as absolute as that of the angels in 
Heaven. His pure appetite sought only such 
things as the Creator had in His bountiful 
beneficence provided. The delicious fruits of 
the garden and the sparkling water that gushed 
from the bosom of Mother Earth, fully satisfied 
the longings of his physical nature. The gentle 
zephyrs that floated over the grassy plains lad- 
en with the breath of flowers, spoke to him of 
the love of the Divine Being who formed him 
for his own glory and provided for all his wants. 
In his innocence man delighted to commune 
with his Maker and dwell in the presence of the 
High and Holy God. But ah! Into this beau- 
tiful world came sin, and its offspring: jealousy, 
hatred, falsehood, intemperance and crime. 
We will consider one of these, viz., intemper- 
ance, and as applied to the use of alcoholic 
drinks. 

Look abroad over the inhabitants of this 



world: instead of man in his original beauty, 
we see him deformed in body, debase in intel- 
lect, his appetites vitiated, and all that was 
once lovely in his nature wrecked by intemper- 
ance. He no longer loves to think of God, for 
with every thought of Him. his own guilt 
stares him in the face. He shrinks from con- 
templating the glories revealed to mankind 
through God's Holy Word; for there he reads 
in unmistakable lines, " No drunkard shall 
enter the kingdom of God." Where love once 
reigned supreme, the spirit of hatred holds the 
scepter. The midnight assassin takes his way 
through the streets of our cities, his hands 
drenched in the blood of his fellow-beings. 
Poverty and suffering surround us on every 
side. From the prince to the beggar, over all 
classes, does this Demon of Intemperance exert 
his power. Surely the Prince of Darkness and 
all his allies united their satanic power when 
alcohol was invented. Yet, this liquid poison is 
being manufactured and poured out almost 
without limit! 

We have become so accustomed to hear and 
read statistics that they fall upon our conscious- 
ness almost unheeded; but, imagine ourselves 
the inhabitants of some fair land where, hither- 
to alcohol has been unknown, and that by some 
mysterious agency, the devastating flood is in 
one hour poured upon it. What consternation, 
what despair, seizes every heart! 

Look! See them fall! Here is a young man, 
the hope and pride of his family, he has had 
ever} 7 advantage that love and money coulc^ 
procure. Fair young forms clustered round 
his pathway; eager faces were upturned to his; 



even the casual observer could not fail to notice 
the nobility stamped upon his brow. He has 
fallen a prey to the destroyer. 

There is one whose dignified bearing portrays 
the statesman and the scholar. In legislative 
halls his impassioned eloquence has moved 
thousands to tears; the great heart of a nation 
has thrilled at his earnest appeals. See, now! 
he is wallowing in the gutter. 

Appears another victim of this curse to hu- 
manity; a poor, tottering old lady, bending 
under the weight of years. Once she was the 
mother of three lovely boys; now she is broken- 
hearted and alone in the world. Her fond and 
loving companion lies yonder in a drunkard's 
grave. Her eldest boy is peering through the 
iron grate that shuts him out from all society. 
Her second son hangs dangling from the gal- 
lows as a just retribution for crime. Who is 
this murderer's victim? His own brother. Yes, 
the curly-headed, bine-eyed boy his playmate 
through childhood, and whom their mother 
still calls her u baby." Light and happiness 
have gone out from that mother's life, and with 
clasped hands and aching heart she longs for 
death. 

Terrible pictures? Fearful scenes? They are 
around us on every side. Go where we will, 
we meet instance after instance too horrible for 
description. Take up any newspaper; there 
are accounts of crime and suffering that cause 
the blood to curdle in our veins. The cause of 
this wretchedness and woe? In nine cases out 
of ten, the use of alcoholic drinks. 

In contending against intemperance we meet 
a variety of excuses. Among these is the one 



so frequently urged: "Oh, I shall never be a 
drunkard. "What's the use of making such an 
ado about this thing? I know what I'm about; 
I'm only a moderate drinker. I don't believe in 
getting drunk any more than you do; but, then, 
I think there is no harm in taking a glass now 
and then. Why I shall never drink to excess, 
but a little moderate use of liquors won't hurt 
anyone." 

Let me ask you: Where do drunkards come 
from? Did you ever know a total abstainer to be- 
come a drunkard? No,never. Whence,then, comes 
the stead}^ re-enforcements to the drunkards' 
ranks? There are over eight hundred thousand 
confirmed drunkards in the United States alone. 
Of this number it is claimed that eighty thous- 
and die annually and are consigned to the 
drunkard's grave and the drunkard's hell. 

Now, were it not that others are being con- 
tinually added to the list, you see that in ten 
years there would be no drunkards. But not 
so; for, close in the wake of those who are rap- 
idly disappearing, comes a vast throng of mod- 
erate drinkers. The appetite is already formed, 
the will power weakened, and they take their 
places among the habitual drinkers. They are 
no longer moderate drinkers, but — drunkards. 

But you say: "That's only weak-minded men; 
I'm not one of that kind. I can quit whenever 
1 have a mind." 

Well, then, suppose you quit. Suppose you 
"have a mind"; for, be sure that is something 
you are losing fast at the rate you are going. 
You will never have a better time, never as 
good a time as now. Besides, you know not 
what you do when you trifle with your appetite 
in this matter. 



It has been proved beyond successful contro- 
versy, that the appetite for strong drink can be 
transmitted from parent to child, and, in some 
cases, still farther. There may be slumbering 
within you that love for liquor which needs 
only to be fostered for a short time to get con- 
trol over you. 

Rev. H. H. Murray, who was a few } r ears ago 
a young and popular pastor of a Congregational 
Church in Boston, says: " You are talking like 
silly idiots when you say, there is no danger in 
the cup. I know from the blood of five genera- 
tions of cider-drinking ancestors in my veins, 
the danger there is in this thing. There is not 
a scent of liquor that is not pleasant to me, that 
would not be a precious drop to my tongue. 

" Look at me! Do I look like a man easy 
to be overcome by temptation? Do you know 
my life? Go back and learn it and see what I 
have suffered; and yet I say to you— with this 
background of evidence — I declare to you as I 
value my manhood, my standing in society- and 
my soul, I w T ould not dare to drink for three 
weeks a glass of ardent spirits a day. 

" The chasm yawns at your feet and mine. 
Those who say there is no danger in that first 
glass, do not recognize the peril of hereditary 
weakness." 

^" I only drink beer. Beer wont hurt anyone." 
Who is it says that? How do you know it? 

Beer does harm people, for it engenders an 
appetite for stimulants, and in a very, short 
time beer will not satisfy that appetite, and you 
will seek for something stronger. The only- 
difference is, more beer is required to cause in 
toxication than of other liquors; and mark you. 



" whatever makes drunk, makes drunkards." A 
Cincinnati physician says that one of the worst 
cases of delirium tremens he ever attended was 
that of a German who drank nothing but lager. 

Let us look at this subject from another stand- 
point. You, my friend, who claim to be only a 
moderate drinker, have already entered the fatal 
stream that is yearly plunging its thousands 
into a drunkard's grave; the death-demon is 
just behind you, though you see him not. The 
shadow of his dark wings is resting upon your 
brow and his influence is felt in your heart. 

You wish proof of this? You know that when 
we have a particular regard for any person or 
object, we very much dislike to hear anything 
disparaging about them. Whenever you hear 
temperance people speak of the evils of drinking, 
even moderately, do not your feelings revolt? 
Do you not sometimes call them cranks and 
fanatics? As you read these sentences, what 
epithet do you apply to the writer? Do you 
not characterize the expressions as a too strong," 
the scenes as "over-drawm?" Let me tell you 
why you are blind to the magnitude of the 
liquor curse: You sympathize with it. Did you 
not possess this sympathy you would not be 
offended; having this sympathy you are sensi- 
tive. Oh, that word "sensitive!" We are "sen- 
sitive" for the reputation of omx friends \ we feel 
every detraction intended for them. The liquor 
interest is then your friend! Tell me, is it not 
clear then that you are in danger of becoming 
a drunkard? O, my brother, consider what }^ou 
are doing! 

What are you doing? You are wasting pre- 
cious years of your life: soon they will have fled 



away forever. A body that God intended as a 
dwelling-place for His Holy Spirit is being 
made a habitation for sin; and the soul, the im- 
mortal part, instead of growing and expanding 
as He intended it should, is being dwarfed and 
disfigured. How unlike His own glorious 
image! The faculties of mind that, if rightly 
improved, no fetter is strong enough to bind, 
you allow to grovel amid the debasing scenes of 
the bar-room, giving, perhaps, scarcely an hour 
to thoughtful meditation or careful investiga- 
tion in regard to your true relation toward God 
and man, or to your destiny hereafter. 

God has given you talents, but they are un- 
improved. Life, sterti life, with its opening 
fields of usefulness all around you, calls you to 
perform your part in the great struggle against 
sin. 

Brothers, there's a higher, nobler life to live; 
there are purer joys and holier aspirations beck- 
oning you onward and upward. Rise to nobler 
manhood. Dash to earth the cup that lures 
but to destroy, and with a firm and steady pur- 
pose march in the temperance ranks resolved to 
fight the demon alcohol as long as you live. 
Carefully consider this subject. Think of your 
individual responsibility to God; think of your 
influence over your fellow-beings. Think; and 
then, in the words of old, pray: "So teach us to 
number our days that we may apply our hearts 
unto wisdom." 

And what shall I say of the poor drunkard? 
He started out on life's voyage full of hope and 
vigor and in an evil hour was taken captive by 
the enemy. A few years ago he was only a 
moderate drinker, and thought little of the dan- 



TO 

ger before him. Now, he is often in a fit of 
beastly intoxication; and it would be difficult to 
find him entirely free from the influence of 
liquor— that subtle influence that, ere he was 
aware, robbed him of independence of charac- 
ter and all true principles of manhood, and 
caused him to yield, to those desires which be- 
long alone to the brute creation. He is now 
seldom seen in the sanctuary, his business is 
neglected, and he is rapidly going the downhill 
road. He allows his wife and children to suffer 
hunger and cold, that he may satisfy his longing 
for drink, and his sensibilities are so blunted 
that he cares not, though he crush the hearts 
of those who love him best. 

He is bound with chains so strong he cannot 
break away. Cannot did I say? No, that is not 
the word. He can reform, but he must do it 
quickly, and must be in earnest. I remember 
hearing of a man reformed from a life of dissi- 
pation, who would not even pass by a saloon. 
Rather than place himself so near temptation, 
he went out of his way in going to and from his 
work. All honor to such a man! 

Do not be discouraged because you may have 
tried before and failed. Never was there a 
time when the good of all classes felt such an 
anxiety in your behalf as now. The prayers of 
God's people are going up all over the land, 
from valley and plain, from shore to shore for 
the deliverance of the world from strong drink. 

And, oh, how many hours your faithful wife 
spends pleading for you, while you are absorbed 
in revelry and sin. 

There is another whose solicitude will cease 
only with her life. What was it you heard as 



II 

you stole into the house after that last drunken 
carousal? Ah! It was the voice of your mother 
pleading with all the agony of a mother's soul: 
" Oh, God, save my son!" If there is aught 
akin to a Savior's love for a lost and ruined 
race, it is a mother's love for her wayward 
child. 

Come, then, assert the dignity of your man- 
hood, and resolve that, by the grace of God, yon 
will hereafter be a temperance man. He has 
said "My grace is sufficient for thee, ' and you 
may safely trust Him. Ask Him to take away 
the appetite; then be careful not to place your- 
self near the hateful stuff, nor allow your eye 
to rest upon it, nor its poisonous fumes to 
mingle with your breath; and, surely as you 
pursue this course, you will come off conqueror. 

Yet, let us look at the consequences if you 
continue your present course. A few short 
years and the earth will fall upon your coffin 
lid; you will fill an unhonored grave, there to 
await the awful sound that calls the nations of 
the earth to judgment. At last that hour ar- 
rives. The trump is sounded; the dead arise. 
You are summoned before the tribunal of a 
just and holy God. How you tremble as the 
Judge of all Mankind pronounces the awful 
sentence, " Depart ye cursed into ever- 
lasting punishment!" Who can picture that 
scene? Words can give us no adequate idea of 
the anguish of that moment of final separation. 
Hark! Listen to that wail of despair: 

"Farewell, companions of my youth and riper 
years! You strove to win me from the haunts 
of sin, but I heeded you not. O, had I lis- 



12 

tened to your warning! Bat it is now too late, 
too late. 

"Farewell father, mother; you who trained my 
infant feet to walk in the paths of purity, fare- 
well! E'en now I remember how earnestly 
you prayed that your boy might shun the way 
of evil doers, while by your example as well as 
precept, you tried to lead me to Christ ; but 
I despised your counsel, I chose the road to 
ruin. 

"Farewell, fond wife! Nevermore shall I be- 
hold your face. I recall your patient sufferings, 
your gentle reproofs, your prayers and your 
tears. Yes, I remember them all. O, had I, 
had I listened to the voice of conscience and the 
dictates of my own better judgment; had I ac- 
cepted salvation, I might now join yonder shin- 
ing throng and help to swell the chorus of the 
redeemed, instead of being consigned to the 
dark realms of endless despair. 

"Farewell, Jesus! Thou Lamb of God, though 
I slighted thy offers of mercy and oft profaned 
thy precious name, though I scorned thy pity- 
ing glance as it fell from the cross, I now would 
give worlds were they mine, could I receive 
one smile from thy countenance. But I have 
bartered away my friends, my soul, my 
Heaven! 

4% And what have I received? A drunkard's 
life and a drunkard's hell.*' 

Ah! Who would choose a drunkard's doom? 



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